Life lesson #4,529: There is not enough Lori to go around, no matter how far Lori tries to stretch herself. I'm happy to report a very speedy lesson. Ummm.. well.... speedy in the grand scheme of things.

My business has been wildly successful; more successful than I'd even dreamed. That's saying a lot because I'm a big dreamer.

I've known early on that my business was successful due to the unique skill set I had to offer. I can say with full confidence that I'm the only person in the U.S. with my skill set, and I'm selling my skill set when I market to new clients so farming out the work is not an option. Cameron is coming along nicely in his training, but he's still 20 years behind me in experience so there's some catchin' up to do. I have complete faith that he'll be able to do anything that I can do eventually, but for now- the bulk relies square on my shoulders.

I was asked by "Big Fish" to up my hours from 30/week (starting January) to 40/week (starting March). I've been at 20/week since 2009. I thought that would be an awesome way to speed up to retirement. What I found was that it was a quick way to make lots of money, but in the end took a toll on my liver condition and took me away from my original goal to build my business to have a variety of customers. I was unable to offer the same customer service that my other customers were used to and so I've asked Big Fish to cut back my hours to 24. That's not as drastic as it may appear. At 24 hours I'm still making WAY more than I was making as a full time employee at my previous employer, PLUS I have other clients. Oh, and my sanity. heh.

Here's a tip from yours truly: Money isn't EVERYTHING. Money does NOT buy happiness. I already knew that, but I thought that I was responsible to make as much money as was being sent my way. I'd made my intention known that I wanted a successful business, therefore I felt that turning business away was irresponsible. What I found was that I was not taking care of myself. It was a very quick and painful lesson. One that I'm going to pay attention to.

It was a bit of a rocky road to climb out of the hole I'd made for myself, but I'm getting there.

I've learned that my neurologist was right that since the head injury my brain does NOT work right when I'm under too much stress. I forget things and become very confused. I can't even write well enough for spell-check to figure out what word I'm trying to use. Even worse, I'd become so wrapped up in working that I forgot to order my head meds (from the brain injury in 2007) refill from the mail order pharmacy and had to go cold turkey for six days. Each day became exponentially worse than the previous with the bottom completely falling out over the weekend. It was quite ugly. I called my doctor on Monday and she said that this was extremely dangerous and I should have called for a temporary refill on the drugs until the mail order drugs came in. So, I got that last night and feel much better today. Still feel like my brain is bouncing around the inside of my skull, but at least I don't hear funny sounds when I move my eyes. (weird, right?)

Underlying all of this is the frustration with my inability to walk. All of this began two years ago in May. Can you believe it? Tomorrow I go get a shot in my tendon (does NOT sound at all fun.) Not sure what the shot is, but the surgeon said it's not cortisone. She said it was an anesthetic of some kind. I'm also getting a new MRI on my ankle to see what's going on. It's official that I can no longer walk more than 10 minutes without pain shooting up to a 7 or 8. The pain level doesn't go back down for a couple of days, so I'm doing a lot of sitting on my arse. You can imagine what that does to the waist line. It's not necessarily weight-bearing that's causing the pain (though I'm sure it exacerbates the issue), it's just the movement of the ankle. Even driving a car hurts because I have to move my ankle to work the gas pedal.

My follow-up appointment with the surgeon is on Monday. I'm ready to have my ankle fused back together at this point. Or just cut the damned thing off (I kid... sort of....) I can't even begin to express the frustration this has caused me. I'm basically house-bound because walking anywhere for any length of time hurts even if I'm wearing my boot. I can't go do anything fun, not even grocery shopping. Sure, I could ride around in one of those carts, but I'm soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo done with this. As the weather becomes nicer, I become more crabby about it.

So, I guess we can all agree that it's been a very rough couple of weeks and all of it was self-induced. My brother told me this weekend (thanks for talking me down, bro!) that I really need to stop feeling responsible for everything and everyone around me and he's right. I think it's left-overs from being a single parent. It's a real mind-trip when you're responsible for EVERYTHING (keeping a household, making enough money to support my children, paying the bills, etc. etc. etc. ) for two children for most of their lives (TOTALLY WORTH IT!) It's hard to let go of that mind-set. The boys are able to support themselves and BJ has been able to manage living for 42 years without my assistance. Nobody is going to die if I'm unable to be the end-all and be-all for everyone and everything in my life (well, except Einstein, of course. giggle)

Yup, I know that there are awful things going on around me (Japan! Cancer! Death!) and so I feel guilty for whining about this. I think that it's the layer upon layer of stuff that has happened since 2007 that often-times feels like a never-ending mountain I've had to climb. Every time something else happens I think, "seriously? aren't we done?" And then I start climbing the mountain again and will continue to do so- perhaps not with a smile on my face but I'll climb dagnabbit.

The first step is to understand which path is worth climbing and that's what I'm working on now. I'll let you know how that turns out.

• My foot surgeon called me to make an appointment for Tuesday. She said that i have to stay off my foot until then. Wouldn't you know it, it's a beautiful day today.
  
  I thought it would be OK to throw a ball around in the back yard for Einstein while BJ was out golfing. Just that little bit of walking around made my ankle pop out of place, so when BJ came home, I asked him to pull my ankle back in place. 
  
  I can't really describe the feeling, but now BJ knows how to pop my ankle back in place and the relief is instant. He said it made him sick, so I'll try to keep that duty to a minimum! I'm just glad I didn't have to wait until Tuesday.
 


• I put in 67 hours of work the week before last and 50 this week (40 hours of RUSH projects at 'Big Fish', 10 at TLS) so I'm mentally pooped out and more likely to be a compliant patient. I'm watching psychological thrillers today to keep my mind off my fankle and work. 
  
  Oh dear. The sweet little girl in the movie I'm watching is apparently satanic. Didn't see that one coming......



• ANYWHOCARES, next weekend I get to watch the landscapers prepare my yard for spring (weed, prune, remove moss and blow in yards and yards of bark.) I bought some new bulbs which I'll plant afterward. 
  
  I can't wait to see my gardens start to bloom, and have a beautiful yard again. This time of year, they look their worst because the old stuff hasn't made way for the new stuff yet. It's a great reminder every year to let go of the ugly old stuff to make room for beauty.
 

My cute little physical therapist said that she's sending me back to the foot surgeon. There's something going on that she can't fix and the swelling just wont go away. I made her compare my ankles just to make sure she wasn't mistaking chub for swelling. I was pretty sure that my ankle was fat, not swollen. I was wrong.

She really does put up with a lot from me. I'm always having her do experiments. Last time I was there I was CERTAIN that it was my orthotics causing the fankle pain when I walk. Maybe they don't fit right anymore, I told her. So, she let me try the treadmill without my shoes just so I'd get that idea out of my head. She was right, and i was wrong. Go figure. Maybe there's a reason she has the word Doctor in her title, eh?

She's hoping that the surgeon will opt for a cortisone shot to the ankle to calm things down. I hope that she's right, because I do not want another fankle surgery. My foot already looks like frankenfankle. (ha! That made me laugh!)

So yeah. All I have to say about that is meh.

I do my laundry on Sunday with no variation except possibly starting a load the night before. Last weekend, I started a load at about 10:30 PM on Saturday and decided to put it in the dryer on Sunday. That came back to bite me on Sunday morning.

I went to the laundry room to put in Sunday's first load and heard water running from somewhere. After a bit of investigation, BJ determined that the 'splitter' (don't know what it's really called, but it turns one spigot into two) cracked and water had probably been running since the night before. Oops. That's what I get for getting a head start on my laundry.

BJ had planned for a relaxing day, and it was off to a bad start.

We moved the washer and found a nice little swimmin' pool back there. After throwing a few towels down to soak up the water, BJ headed for the hardware store to replace the cracked splitter. All-in-all it was time consuming, but a fairly easy fix. BJ returned to his relaxation and treated himself to a nice big cup of hot chocolate and a movie on the big screen in the living room.

About five minutes into his relaxation, I hear "[swear word after swear word]". He'd somehow knocked that nice BIG cup of hot chocolate all over our off-white carpet. Normally, I'd be on all fours cleaning the mess but I was having a bit of a time myself with a work project and was already having a bad day. Eventually BJ figured out that there was no cleaning that chocolaty mess without a carpet cleaner, so off he went again to the store to pick up a carpet cleaner.

The carpet cleaner did the trick, and I wished I had time to do all the carpets while we had it, but I was still knee-deep into a super frustrating project and could see no end in sight. BJ returned the carpet cleaner after only using it for about 10 minutes.

One more try at relaxing for BJ. This time he put a lid on his hot chocolate after making a new batch. It's a good thing, because he knocked it over again. This time it was MY fault. I'd gone beyond my frustration threshold and went into BJ's 'cone of relaxation' to get a cuddle. That's when he knocked over his hot chocolate again. He'd removed his headphones so he could listen to me, and set them right next to the hot chocolate, knocking it over again. He was thankful for the lid, because it kept the spillage to a minimum and was able to clean it up fairly easily.

On to Monday. Yay! It's house-cleaner day! Nice clean wood floors (OK, they're always clean, but I have a false sense of 'even more clean' when it's house-cleaner day.) Not long after BJ got home from work, I poured myself a 32 ounce glass of sugar-free cherry kool-aid. Guess what? I knocked it over. The whole 32 ounces of red koolaid all over my clean floor. It covered a four-foot radius, splashing up and under the furniture in the splash zone. It was a MESS.

Normally I have fresca at night, which is colorless, so I was glad that I'd switched it up so I could at least see where all the koolaid went. 32 ounces goes a long way, especially when the plastic glass bounces.

So yeah. We need sippy cups. And maybe better eye-hand coordination.

Go thou thy way, and I go mine,
Apart, yet not afar;
Only a thin veil hangs between
The pathways where we are.
And "God keep watch 'tween thee and me";
This is my prayer;
He looks thy way, He looketh mine,
And keeps us near.
I know not where thy road may lie,
Or which way mine will be;
If mine will lead thro' parching sands
And thine beside the sea;
Yet God keeps watch 'tween thee and me,
So never fear;
He holds thy hands, He claspeth mine,"
And keeps us near.

Should wealth and fame perchance be thine,
And my lot lowly be,
Or you be sad and sorrowful,
And glory be for me,
Yet God keep watch 'tween thee and me;
Both be His care;
One arm round thee and one round me
Will keep us near.

I sigh sometimes to see thy face,
But since this may not be,
I'll leave thee to the care of Him
Who cares for thee and me.
"I'll keep you both beneath my wings,"
This comforts, dear; One wing o'er thee
and one o'er me,
Will keep us near.

And though our paths be separate,
And thy way is not mine,
Yet coming to the Mercy seat,
My soul will meet with thine.
And "God keep watch 'tween thee and me,"
I'll whisper there.
He blesseth thee, He blesseth me,
And we are near.

-- Julia A. Baker --